


Just a Typical Day

by Shuufleur



Category: Merlin (TV), White House Down (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Gen, Hurt Arthur pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 05:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12336699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuufleur/pseuds/Shuufleur
Summary: When did Arthur's life become a Die Hard movie?





	Just a Typical Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luckydip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckydip/gifts).



> This is a pinch hit for luckydip, for the Crossovering Exchange 2017.
> 
> Weirdly enough, I found the prompt quite appealing after thinking about it and I'm sad I couldn't go into more details. The plot isn't terribly original but I had fun with it. I tried to incorporate most of the things you like so I hope you'll enjoy what I wrote for you, luckydip!
> 
> Also, sorry if this feels a bit rushed.
> 
> Note: not beta'd by someone else, just me. :)

As the building shook because of another explosion, Arthur decided to get comfortable. He removed his vest, unbuttoned his cufflinks and put them in one of the interior pockets of his vest. He then folded back his sleeves on his arms, and took the gun he found on the dead man (a gunman, his mind supplied) and checked the magazine. There were six bullets left, not nearly enough to survive this.

He heard steps coming towards him. He whirled around, raising the gun. His heart hammering inside his chest, Arthur braced himself and aimed in front of him. Whoever was coming was going to have nasty surprise.

He first saw a mop of black hair, then blue eyes appeared, pointy cheekbones and a chin that went for a mile.

“Oh, it’s you.” Arthur commented with a sneer.

Blue Eyes froze, raising his gun slightly before realizing he was aiming at the son of the current Prime Minister.

“Bollocks,” the man muttered, and Arthur snorted.

“Is that any way to talk in my presence?”

“In this situation, yes.” The other man replied. What was his name? Something ridiculous, starting with a M. Marvin? Merle? Merlow?

“If you say so, Meredith.”

Blue Eyes sighed.

“My name is Merlin.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“Is this a joke? It’s a very bad one.”

“It’s not a joke, and you—” he stopped abruptly, looking at Arthur hand. He saw the gun. Blue Eyes raised his hands in a calming manner and said slowly as if _Arthur_ was an idiot.

“OK, you might want to give me the gun.”

“I might not want to give you the gun, you dimwit.”

The man’s face closed off, barely hidden anger simmering behind his eyes.

“If you want,” he said carefully, “Can you stop pointing it at me please?”

Arthur furrowed his brow, not really sure why he wanted to trust Merlin. He did lower the gun. He supposed that if Blue Eyes wanted to kill, he would have already done it.

(Or maybe he wanted a ransom, whispered his stupid brain.)

“Sir, I’m not sure if you are aware of the situation but you need to come with me.”

“Oh, do I?” Arthur asked, incredulous.

Merlow sighed heavily and crept towards him, avoiding shards of broken glass and plaster littering the ground.

“You can trust me. I only want to get you out of here alive.”

“Oh really? Weren’t you the one who told your friend that I was…” Arthur paused to pretend he was trying to remember the word, “Oh, that’s right: a prat.”

“I didn’t know who you were,” Merlin said between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t have said that if you knew?”

The other man looked at him with mirth in his eyes.

“No.”

Somehow, it didn’t anger Arthur. It amused him.

Two shots rang out suddenly, followed by screams. Arthur flinched at the sound. He looked at the other man, feeling panic slowly creeping up on his neck. Come on, now is not the time to panic, Arthur scolded himself.

“Sir, we have to go.” Merlin said urgently. His eyes flickered to the gun Arthur was holding, distrustful. Arthur snorted.

“You really think I’m an idiot.”

This wasn’t a question. The other man grimaced, a bit embarrassed.

Good, Arthur thought, amused.

“If you know how to use it,” Merlin said, reluctant. “we should go.”

He stood and checked his gun.

“Do y _ou_ how to use your gun?”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“I’m a cop.”

“You?”

He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. This sounded so ridiculous. That man looked like a gawking 15 year-old, or an adult barely out of his teenage years.

The glare Blue Eyes sent him was totally worth it.

“If you must know, I also passed the exam to join Her Majesty’s secret service.”

“Have you now? Are you agent, then?” Arthur smiled smugly, knowing the answer.

“No,” Merlin said, flushing a little bit, “but I’m your best bet to get out of here alive.”

Arthur sighed and looked at the door.

“Let’s go then.” He said, showing Merlin the door. The other man smirked, making Arthur blink, before going to the door and carefully opening it.

“Are you ready, sir?” Merlin asked, when he made sure there wasn’t any of the intruders waiting to ambush them.

“You know, the way you say “sir” doesn’t sound very… respectful,” Arthur commented.

The only answer he received was a wink.

Damn him.

The next few minutes were probably the weirdest, scariest, wildest minutes of Arthur’s life.

Merlin was weirdly competent. No, seriously. Arthur was man enough to recognise it (he would never admit it though).

For example, that guy had some serious strength. He tackled Arthur out of the way of a _wall_ of bullets as if he was just some bloody rugby player to then find the time to answer with his own bullets. He shot three times: pop, pop, pop, straight to the Kevlar vest, right in the solar plexus. The other guys fell and left them time to flee the room.

Merlin was, of course, someone who didn’t kill “unnecessarily”, in his own words.

(“It’s not unnecessary when it’s my life on the line!” Arthur whispered-shouted at Blue Eyes, while hiding behind the very expensive piano of Queen Elizabeth II.

“Shut up Arthur,” He replied not even bothering with an explanation before he whirled around and shot another guy in the leg and in the arm.

“Shit, I’m out of bullets. Give me your gun.” Merlin strongly suggested. That wasn’t order. Arthur wasn’t ordered. He wanted to protest but Merlin was actually the better equipped for this kind of things.

“Fine,” He relented grudgingly, handing the gun to the other man.)

At one point, they bumped into two other gunmen (“How many of you fucks are there?” Arthur shouted when the other two froze up upon seeing them.).

After Merlin and Arthur - yes, Arthur - successfully disarmed the gunmen and knocked them out, Merlin grabbed Arthur by the arm and pushed him inside a nook.

“Oh, well, if you—” Arthur was cut off by Merlin’s hand on his mouth, muffling his voice.

“Shhh, don’t be so loud. There might be others around here.”

As a revenge, Arthur licked his palm. Merlin removed his hand with a disgusted face.

“Don’t be childish. We’re still not safe.”  He muttered. He checked Arthur’s gun. There was no bullets left in the magazine.

Merlin turned his head towards one of the unconscious gunmen on the ground.

“We’re not far from the exit, but I’d still feel safe with a gun in my hands. Wait here.”

Before Arthur could even say something, Merlin was already dashing to the nearest assault rifle one of the intruders dropped. Just at the same moment, a gunman burst into the corridor they were in, and threatened to shoot Merlin. The cop let the rifle on the ground and raised both hands in the air. The gunman walked towards him, and passed by Arthur without seeing him.

This was when Arthur decided to act stupid. He admitted he had been stupid, but really, who could blame him? Desperate situation called for desperate measures.

(“You were so fucking stupid, you bloody idiot, you could’ve been killed and your father would have killed me!” Merlin remarked with groan.

“Well, thank you for concern,” Arthur replied sarcastically, “I feel warmed by your words. Never felt better.”

Merlin glared at him and punched him on the shoulder. A surge of pain went across his arm.

“Ouch, you brute. Stop hitting me, it hurts!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten shot, you dimwit.”

“I don’t even remember it!”

Merlin let a frustrated sound.)

Arthur braced himself and lunged at the guy from behind. The other man didn’t have to react when he jumped on his back, his arm against his throat to choke him. Unfortunately, the gunman was apparently trained and threw Arthur off his back. He fell on the ground with a thud, hitting his head. Dizzy, he turned on his stomach and started to crawl to safety.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted. He looked back and saw Merlin launching himself from a table onto the gunman who had the weapon aimed at Arthur.

Shit, he was going to get shot.

Then, several things happened at the same time: Merlin tackled the gunman, there was an explosion, a shot was fired, one door _flew_ out of its bounds, pain, shouting, a big noi— and nothing.

When Arthur woke up with the worst headache in the world, he was in an Ambulance, outside of the Buckingham Palace, with Uther Pendragon, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, by his side.

“Dad?” he called out, voice croaky.

Uther suddenly turned to him.

“My dear boy, how are you feeling?”

Arthur closed his eyes briefly, trying to feel if there was anything of him missing. But he seemed whole apart from his arm throbbing as if a DJ had been throwing the dirtiest beats for bloody forever.

“Good,” He answered, “considering.”

“Yes, well. You’re lucky you had that young man with you.”

The blond man frowned.

“Young man?”

“Yes, that Merlin.”

“Oh, yeah. Him.”

“I’ve already called the Queen to make him an agent. Since you cannot avoid this kind of incidents,” Uther said pointedly.

(He was probably referring to the last kidnap attempt someone tried to pull on him, or the bank robbers when he was _in_ the bank. Maybe it was that one time at the bar…)

“That way, he becomes your bodyguard and I may not suffer a heart attack by next year.”

Uther sighed, looked at his watch. “Well, now, I have to go. There is that dullish press conference to do. See you in a bit.”

“Wait, Dad, wait!” Arthur called out after his brain caught up to the fact that _Merlin_ was going to be his bodyguard, but his father was already gone.

Shit.

“Hey, you’re awake.” A voice said.

Arthur looked at Merlin and sighed.

“Hey, you’re not dead.”

Merlin smirked.

“You’ve heard the news, then.”

Arthur groaned and let his head fall back. He heard Merlin chuckle.

“Merlin?” Another man called.

“What is this? The bathroom?” Arthur muttered angrily.

“Lance! What are you doing here?”

“Well, you know. It’s my job. And since Arthur Pendragon was caught in it.”

Silence.

“Oh. Of course, I’m- sorry, I- it’s been a long since we saw each other.”

Merlin sounded embarrassed.

Curious, bored and aching all over, Arthur decided see what was happening.

When his eyes landed on that Lance, he couldn’t help but whistle. Both men turned to him, Merlin glowering and Lance, politely looking at him in askance.

“Never mind.” Arthur replied so that they’d stopped staring at him. And now there were back at staring at each other. Which was much better. Although, Arthur agreed with Merlin, ‘Lance’ was a looker; with his brown eyes, his gentle curls, his sun kissed skin, he could be an actor.

Wow, the painkillers must have started working.

“Merlin… I’m just really glad to see you again.” Lance said, with a soft smile.

Arthur groaned again and spoke up.

“Just kiss already, you’re making me sicker.”

He didn’t have time to listen to their answers as he promptly fell asleep.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> You can absolutely see this as Merlin/Lancelot.


End file.
